


Keeping

by 2pork



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Meeting the Parents, implied FujiKiri maybe, only for a little bit, who knows - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-02-20 12:18:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2428451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2pork/pseuds/2pork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of course, Ryoma is free to ambush him in Rikkaidai anytime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keeping

When Ryoma steps out of the school gates and finds Marui frozen in mid-step, he doesn’t stop to question it. He does, however, raise an eyebrow at Kirihara, who manages to stay still long enough to ask him where Fuji is, and why the hell he isn’t in afternoon practice.  
  
“At home,” he answers after a few seconds of deliberately tormenting the older boy. “Probably.”  
  
Kirihara makes a sound only a girl ditched on the second date could make, before taking off down the street.  
  
Marui whistles, still somehow balancing on one leg. “Hope he knows where he’s going, or Sanada’s gonna have my head for effortlessly losing him,” he says.  
  
“I think Fuji-senpai goes that way,” Ryoma says with a shrug. He doesn’t add that he’s only ever seen Fuji go that way when Eiji drags him along for burgers. “That… your kouhai can take care of himself, can’t he?”  
  
They fall into the same pace, crossing the street and heading for the other direction, neither caring to run into Kirihara again – though Ryoma can tell Marui is keeping an eye out for his own sake. Even he has to admit that getting slapped by Sanada, for whatever reason, isn’t something he wants for himself.  
  
Not if he doesn’t get a chance to have his revenge.  
  
“Hey.” Marui elbows him, but doesn’t meet his eyes. Instead he stares at their reflections on the shop windows they pass. “What’re you smirking about there?”  
  
“… Nothing.” Atobe. Atobe’s head. Atobe’s bald head after he’d shaved it. Revenge.  
  
He notices the other glare particularly hard at a candy store and stop right in front of it, pressing his face against the glass.  
  
“Ridiculous!” Marui exclaims. His mouth remains open as he eyes the display, lingering on each item for as long as his attention span allows before it insists on moving onto the next one. “They’re all expensive! And delicious – _seemingly_ delicious, can’t let myself be fooled – but expensive, what the hell? No one in their right mind would buy something this expensive, not even for someone they’ve been desperately wooing for seven years!”  
  
Ryoma blinks slowly when he catches the other sneak a glance at him.  
  
“… Forget it.”  
  
They abandon the shop.  
  
-  
  
Later on, they run into Kirihara, who is surprisingly being accompanied by Fuji to the public courts. Marui doesn’t know why he and Ryoma are still wandering around after an hour, why they don’t just stop by some fast food restaurant (even if it’s only to rest their legs, but if Ryoma isn’t complaining, then he won’t either. Always win, Rikkaidai!), why they don’t simply call it a day and go out again the next time he goes to Seigaku for an ambush.  
  
Of course, Ryoma is free to ambush him in Rikkaidai anytime.  
  
(“Fat chance, sugar freak,” Niou might say. “But not nearly as fat as you.” And Niou might die from a rare disease and do the world a favour.)  
  
As it is, he’s standing with Ryoma on one side of the pedestrian lane, and a triumphant-looking Kirihara with a smiling Fuji on the other. Not knowing what to think, he considers for a moment if following his kouhai to the public courts is the right thing to do.  
  
Sanada would want him to do it. For the good of the team. Babysit their little ace. But since when did he ever willingly do what his vice-captain wanted?  
  
He scowls. _What to do_?  
  
Ryoma breaks him out of his self-induced dilemma with a bored, “Fuji-senpai wants us to go with them. Do we go?”  
  
Marui wonders what Yukimura might do in his situation. Then again, the Rikkaidai captain’s favouritism is no secret in the school. He’d follow Kirihara without thinking twice, and force himself between their ace and Seigaku’s tensai while he’s at it.  
  
Maybe Yukimura isn’t the best model.  
  
“Hey, you.”  
  
“I… can’t decide,” he says miserably.  
  
Ryoma waves at Fuji, and the two turn and are already a block away when Marui finally reacts.  
  
-  
  
The vending machine is broken, and Ryoma stares at it blankly for a while before moving on to look for another one. All the while, Marui tries to consecutively persuade him into a photo booth, an arcade, a candy shop, and a café. Ryoma stops at the last suggestion and looks at Marui thoughtfully.  
  
“Ponta,” he says.  
  
“Yes, I’ll buy you Ponta, come on!” Marui latches onto Ryoma’s wrist and leads him inside. He heads over to an empty table near the counter, stares longingly at the display, and switches to another table further away. He hangs his head, muttering under his breath.  
  
Ryoma slouches on his chair, not saying anything besides, “What?”  
  
The other only raises his eyes for a second before turning away with a huff. He says something about a diet, and Niou being damn aggravating, calling people fat and predicting his future as a diabetic person forever banned from sweets.  
  
He pauses. “You remember who Niou is, right?”  
  
Silver hair. Irritating smirk. Hit Eiji in the face with a tennis ball. Ryoma shrugs. “I guess.”  
  
“I remember all your teammates,” Marui mumbles, pink dusting his cheeks, and clears his throat as a waitress approaches their table.  
  
-  
  
They hit the dim streets and shift closer together. The night air is freezing, but the people still roaming around at the time protect them somewhat from the cold. Marui snags one of Ryoma’s hands and laces their fingers together, shoving the whole mess into his pocket. He tugs the other closer and receives an annoyed grunt when some of the hot tea in Ryoma’s other hand splashes out of the can.  
  
“Ah, oops.” He ignores the follow-up glare in favour of drooling over the very interesting cake shaped like a Christmas tree. “Hey, you want that?”  
  
Ryoma snorts. “Get it for yourself.”  
  
“ _Echizen-kun_ doesn’t understand.” Marui frowns at him; his grip on Ryoma’s hand tightens. “I’m asking for your sake. You want it, right? The cake looks delicious, right?”  
  
“My hand hurts.”  
  
He sighs at the response and loosens his hold. “Not even a slice?” he asks plaintively. “I bet it tastes good.” Good and fluffy and creamy and everything he likes in a cake.  
  
“One slice,” Ryoma says quietly.  
  
Marui instantly looks happier, tells him to wait outside – because he honestly doesn’t want to push his luck any further than he already has – and pushes the door open, vanishing behind the shelves of sweets.  
  
When he comes back, he gives Ryoma one box and keeps the other for himself. He smiles sheepishly when the other stares at his box a little too long, and says, “I accidentally asked for two. And don’t look at me like that. It wasn’t on purpose, really, returning it is just embarrassing.”  
  
Ryoma doesn’t look convinced, but it isn’t Marui’s life mission to sway him into everything, so he lets it be.  
  
-  
  
It’s five til eight and they’re two blocks away from his house. Ryoma feels and sees Marui start fidgeting, sometimes faltering in his step, and it almost amuses him to think of anyone reacting this way to meeting _his father_. (Almost – if Ryoma had his way, Marui would never see even a hair on his stupid father’s head, but the older boy is persistent. _It’s only right_ , or whatever his argument was when they talked about it. Ryoma doesn’t care so much now since he’s not the one being nervous.)  
  
His phone starts ringing and he checks the id.  
  
“Who is it?” Marui asks, possibly to distract himself.  
  
“Fuji-senpai.” He holds the phone up to his ear. “Senpai,” he greets, elbowing Marui when he presses his ear to the other side of the phone.  
  
 _Ah, Echizen. Still with Marui-san?_  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
 _Pass the phone, please._  
  
He does so, and Marui takes the phone with a puzzled face. “Yes?” he says instantly to the receiver. “What’s up?”  
  
Ryoma watches the exchange warily, as he does with any exchange involving Fuji and anyone in his immediate presence. A minute later the phone is handed back to him without incident. “What was that about?” he asks, curious.  
  
“Nothing much,” Marui answers flippantly. “Just looks like Akaya’s crashed and Fuji was wondering if it’s okay for the kid to stay overnight. I mean, Sanada will have my head, but it’s not like I can carry Akaya home or anything, so as long as he gets home okay tomorrow morning, it should be fine.”  
  
“Hm…” Ryoma stops, jerking the other back to where he’s standing. At Marui’s inquisitive look, he nods to the gate beside him. “My house.”  
  
“Oh, right.”  
  
And just then a familiar voice causes Ryoma to roll his eyes.  
  
“Heeey, you brat, what are you still standing out there for? Have you forgotten how to open the…” Ryoma Nanjirou appears at the gate and pauses at the sight of someone accompanying Ryoma home, his gaze fixing onto their clasped hands. “Brat, who’s this?” He juts his thumb out to point at Marui. “ _Friend_ of yours?”  
  
“Ah, I’m –”  
  
“ _Not talking to you_ ,” Nanjirou cuts in, “so let my idiot son answer the question.”  
  
“… Right. Sorry. Shutting up now.”  
  
Ryoma looks at his father through bored, half-lidded eyes, silently resenting being called an idiot and only consoled by the fact that his father is an even bigger one. “Marui Bunta,” he says. “Boyfriend. Can you go away now?”  
  
-  
  
With Ryoma’s father safely back in the house courtesy of Ryoma’s mom (nice lady, very pretty, didn’t bat an eyelash upon being told that Ryoma has someone he likes and said someone is standing in front of her), Marui lets out a relieved sigh.  
  
“I didn’t put you up to this,” Ryoma reminds him, leaning beside him against the gate.  
  
“I know. But it had to be done sooner or later, and I’m just glad it’s over.”  
  
Ryoma smirks at him. “Are you? You can still come inside.”  
  
“ _Ha-ha_. Very funny,” he shoots back. “Next time, you’ll be the one going to my house and meeting my family. They’re gonna trip over each other trying to cuddle with you.”  
  
They stay like that for a few seconds, neither of them talking, but the chilly air reminds Marui that they really shouldn’t be staying outside during winter, and his parents are probably waiting for him to get home. He finds Ryoma’s hand before he can find his voice, and he grasps it, looking at the younger boy out of the corner of his eye. “Ryoma,” he calls the other’s attention softly.  
  
Ryoma turns his head to him.  
  
“I had fun today.”  
  
And Ryoma sort of smiles, and he bows his head so more than half his face is hidden under his cap.  
  
For a moment, he thinks that’s kind of unfair.  
  
But when Ryoma says, “Yeah,” he interprets it as, “I had fun too,” and he thinks, well, that’s kind of okay. There are plenty of chances to see Ryoma’s smile next time.


End file.
